


Where Blue and Yellow Collide

by orphan_account



Category: The Great Wall (2017)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fighting Kink, Lust at First Sight, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:34:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22398664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Tovar is a simple man. He sees a pretty lady fight and suddenly all the blood is rushing to his other head.
Relationships: Pero Tovar/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 46





	Where Blue and Yellow Collide

Tovar’s horrified screaming in your right ear has you turning away from the current Tao Tei wreaking havoc to all the defenses atop the Wall to him with an irritated look on your face. “Was that necessary?”

His face, mostly covered by a scraggy beard and greasy hair, morphs from horror to annoyed disbelief as he replies, “Look at that thing!”

“Okay, but you were right next to my ear-”

“We need to move!” William cuts in, just as irritatingly loud in your left ear, “We need to move or we die!”

Plans are rotating swiftly through each of your minds, the pros and cons of a queue labeled  _ ‘how the fuck do we get ourselves out of this one?’ _ . Except there is no getting yourselves out of this one, and apparently you and William have come to the same conclusion as you look to each other and then straight at the young warrior acting as your guard. He’s worried, nervous, but twitching all the same with anticipation to join the fight with his falling brethren. 

“Go!” you shout just as William cries, “Go and fight!”

No need for more persuasion than that because he’s dropping his shield and heroically sprinting straight into the midst with his spear poised forward. He really should’ve kept the shield. Oh well. 

“Cut us loose!” you yell towards the only other European currently imprisoned within the Wall. 

It takes him a second to gather even an ounce of courage to run out into the fray, but he manages to do so whilst grabbing a discarded blade to get the job done.

As he’s busy hacking off the bounded rope tying all of your wrists together, Tovar manages to ask the most ridiculous question anyone could’ve ever asked. “Fight or run?”

You can’t even muster a response, only looking at him as if he’s lost half his head while William replies, “Run where?”

Per usual, you and Tovar follow his lead as you scramble into a standing position, bearly hearing the strange man’s advice to “aim for the eyes!” as the three of you simultaneously decided to deal with the Tao Tei from earlier. All of the troops are getting horrifically torn apart and/or eaten, save for the young warrior who you’d persuaded to run off earlier.  _ Of course, William,  _ you think, scowling,  _ always playing the hero _ . 

No matter, you aid him, finding a flimsy sword is the closest weapon at hand and joining Tovar in slashing at the beast’s flank while William has it pinned with a spear down its throat. But it fights back, finding itself in the perfect position to launch both you and Tovar halfway across this section of the Wall. 

Breathing is relatively difficult and your body hurts from such an abrupt landing, but to get up and dust yourself off is simply part of being a mercenary. Begrudgingly, you offer a hand to Tovar, but he slaps it away like a child, scowling up at you. Metal scraping against the ground draws both of your attention back to the Tao Tei and William, still held onto the spear and being pushed forward with its running. 

“Hey!” Your voice echoes to his ears, and the minute his eyes are on you, you kick another, mightier halberd in his direction. 

Your intention was not to have him stick that one down its throat as well, but he does so, and you turn to Tovar as he readies a shield in hand. “He was supposed to aim for the eye.”

He only shrugs with a shake of his head, moving in to help his partner tag-team the son-of-a-bitch, using their weight to throw the other for more power behind their attacks. In the end, it’s not dead, but severely disabled, but your attention is to be diverted to another, healthier beast that has now climbed atop. 

You throw the crossbow you’d destroyed into a make-shift bow to William who, after catching it with ease and feeling his shoulders relax with his preferred weapon now in hand, readies himself. Meanwhile, Tovar, the typical Spaniard he apparently is, has gotten himself a red flag and flutters the material out before him.

“Aye, bitch!” he yells, shaking his arms and letting the wind do the rest of the work. 

The beast comes charging forward and Tovar moves out of the way just in time for William, kneeled and prepared to fire a well-aimed arrow into its eye.  _ What’s with all the theatrics,  _ you think, rolling your eyes at Tovar. Simple, squared attacks without all the bravado would do just fine. 

Suddenly, there’s screaming but different from the hardened warriors going down with a passionate fight. This is more… pathetic and genuinely terrified. Down the Wall is the same strange man, the other European, running in staggering steps away from the same beast with the various weapons lodged in its hide chasing after. If you roll your eyes one more time they just might fall out of your head. 

“I’ve got this,” you state, picking up a single, shard of some broken blade, “I just need him out of the way,”

Tovar steps up with his red flag again, all grandiose and dramatic, luring the beast with the bright color and pushing the man out of the way as it leaps into the air. A quick yet powerful throw and it’s down for the count, shrapnel embedded in its eye. If anything, those two idiots you’d agreed to travel with should take notes. 

Tovar’s staring at you, a strange look upon his face and you’re about to ask what the hell his problem is when there’s an awful screech that breaks through the sound barrier of all the other noises of the battle. Everything becomes eerily quiet before every single one of the Tao Tei begins retreating back to their lair. This fight may be over, but the battle is still yet to be determined. 

Regardless, you release a sigh that’s equal parts relief and agitation. This is most certainly not what you had signed up for and you will be wringing William’s neck for all his stupid talk of ‘black powder’. 

~ ~ ~

The strange man, whose name you can’t remember because you really weren’t paying attention to anything other than his suggesting you wash up, met with you following the fight. Supposedly, the trio of you made quite the impression on all the squadron leaders and had been requested to dine with them. After you make yourselves presentable, of course. 

A wooden tub sits in the middle of the small room, illuminated only by two flickering torches on either wall. Despite the low light, you can see the steam rising from the still water and you smile in spite of your perpetual irritation. Armor and rags drop to the floor in a trail towards the tub and you let your hair out of its frayed tie. The first dip of your toe is scalding hot then you’re groaning in pleasure as your entire body sinks beneath the surface. 

You’ve barely even cleaned yourself up before the door is opening and you’re furrowing your brows at this most inconvenient breach of privacy. You look over and immediately scream, lowering yourself more into the water and covering your breasts. “What the fuck, Tovar? Get out!”

“You are taking too long, dinner has already been served,” he replies matter-of-factly, beginning to strip himself of his own armor and rags. 

“What? No, you are not getting in with me!”

He slips off the thin cloth he calls a shirt, and you’re looking away with blazing cheeks despite yourself. You hear him step out of his boots and slipping off his pants, bare feet padding against the floor. Eyes up and staring intently at the corner of the wall, you try to damned hardest not to look exactly where, instinctually, you want to look. 

With the mass of a second body, water sloshes over the edges of the tub as he sits across from you. Each time his knee or foot brushes against you, you curl yourself tighter to your side. Eventually, you find it in you to eye him with the deadliest look you can muster, even with the heat in your cheeks. 

The scar across his eye twitches as he raises his eyebrow and finds the gal to smirk, as well. “You look uncomfortable. Perhaps you may find solace in my arms?”

Keeping one arm firmly across your chest, you use the other to splash water into his face at such a comment. He laughs, chest rumbling with the movement and you inadvertently let your eyes trail down, catching on the various scars and wounds littering his body. 

When you catch his eye again, his smirk seems to widen, knowing exactly what your body is thinking. You lower even more into the water, your foot hitting something that is most definitely not what you think it is… except for Tovar’s hitch in his breathing. 

“Okay, that’s it. You can have the tub, I’m-” you ramble, beginning to step out of the tub in all your stark nakedness. 

Suddenly, Tovar’s moved forward, entrapping you within his arms, his chest barely touching yours. His face is so close, his beard barely scraping against you as he seemingly eyes every single contour of your face.

“You fight confidently,” he whispers, causing you to shiver in combination with his accent, “I enjoy watching you.”

“You fight stupidly, always showing off,” you manage to say, albeit shakily.

“It’s attractive, no?” Hot breath fans across your lips.

“No.”

There’s that smirk again. “I don’t believe you.”

And then his lips are on yours and his tongue is invading your mouth. None of him is soft or sweet, not even his lips which are dry and cracked from days under the sun. But so are yours, and  _ God, it’s been so long,  _ you think, leaning into the roughness and tenacity. 

His back is also littered with various wounds, you can feel each bump, each place where the skin is raised and puckered as your hands wrap around him. His, worn and weathered, grasp either breast, kneading and pulling on your nipple and eliciting your second groan of pleasure that night. 

You’re too impatient for this, though. Taking the offense, you push until it’s him that’s under you, making more tepid water slosh over the sides. You set yourself atop him, your knees on either side, digging painfully into the wood, feeling his hardened member rubbing against your stomach. 

You grasp it, squeezing tightly and enjoying the way his eyes clamp shut before you’re guiding it to your entrance and sliding onto him. It hurts, seeing as you hadn’t given yourself much time to prepare, but the water helps and, dare you say, you enjoy the pain mixed with pleasure? 

You pick a fast pace from the start, slamming back down onto to him as quick as you can, head tilted back in ecstasy. Lips suck marks into your neck and collarbone, trailing down to either nipple and giving each a treatment of tongue and teeth. 

Soon, however, your legs begin to give out, the rhythm becoming staggered. Tovar takes reign, thrusting up into you as best he can, each one becoming rougher as he nears his climax. His grunts push you farther, faster, hearing what you do to him. And then he’s stilled, buried deep and releasing into you. That feeling has you climaxing for the first time in months. Powerful, draining, and drawn-out as you find your breath.

Wordlessly, you step out of the tub as you had intended to do so before Tovar stopped you. Back to him, you dry yourself off with the provided towel and dress as if the events had not just happened. As you reach the door, you turn back around and say, with a smirk as fierce as his, “Not a word, and perhaps this can happen again.”

With a wink, you step out into the hallway and ignore the curious looks of the guards.


End file.
